


Starlight

by Psycada



Category: Hylics (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, Wayne strikes me as the kind of dude think hes cool and smooth, also yes i subscribe to the "wayne is gibby's brother" hc, and Somsnosa just loves it, but he just comes off as a big dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psycada/pseuds/Psycada
Summary: Wayne's first meeting with Somsnosa.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Starlight

It’s been nearly a year since Wayne left the moon.

He gets by just fine. Money is sometimes strewn about, abandoned by its previous owners. Food is cheap enough, though its quality varies. Though he goes hungry more than usual, he manages to live.

And that’s it, really.

The night is quiet and stale. Wayne finds himself aimlessly wandering this empty world. Well, it wasn’t technically empty- it simply might as well have been. Anyone inhabiting the earth here was driven mad long ago, sentenced to spend the rest of time speaking in garbled nonsense disguised as poetry. He felt as though he was still on the moon, surrounded by beings that seemed to be incapable of listening to him. As long as the moon was above him, Gibby’s presence haunted him. 

Gibby, the terrible moon tyrant, being his own brother. How could Gibby himself stand to live in such a world? Was power really that important to him? To eschew any friendship for a now meaningless status? 

It was clear that Wayne had indirectly caused further harm to this world by running away. The moon’s radio waves were a semi-random event, an unexpected trap to catch anyone who might still retain consciousness. Now they occurred nightly, a clear attempt by Gibby to destroy him for his betrayal.

Maybe it would have been better to stay on the moon, and dutifully suffer in silence.

He sits himself near what looks to be a juice ranch, though the usually gyrating organs are asleep. The farmhouse behind him would offer safety from the spectral rays above, but for now, he lets the slightly chilly air cloak him, and the danger of madness ebb ever so closer. He’s considered this for some time- the world here was unbearably lonely, but going back home wasn’t an option. Where else was he to go? Where another soul could listen to him,  _ actually  _ listen to him, instead of vomiting garble his way and moving on? By now it felt like a useless effort.

So he waits. Each night he comes just a little closer to staying stock still, eyes glued to the moon, waiting. Waiting...

He hears something.

Something light and floating, delicate, twinkling in the night. It is just barely able to catch his attention, pulling him out of his thoughts.

_ Singing?  _ But it is unlike anything he has heard before. Wayne wanders closer to the strange farm, ignoring the thought that danger might be lurking nearby. It sounds so beautiful, nothing like the chaotic, twisting melodies that pervaded the moon. This was softer, a warbling rhythm spinning just around the corner.

Wayne walks out into the moonlight and spots her- a blue shape cloaked in a red cloak that radiates a cloud of maroon around her. She sits on the roof of a farmhouse, stars as her backdrop, sending her song into the night. And it’s so  _ sweet _ , how it cascades upwards, high into the chilly air. It seems to grip him- he feels like he, too, is being lifted with her voice.

What does she sing for? Her warbling turns to words, a cohesive poetry unraveling before him. She sings with purpose. The songs on the moon were cold, empty things. The fanciful words the clay up there spouts is nothing but that, incomprehensible words that leave him grasping for meaning. But here, this humble rancher sends warmth straight into his chest, makes him want to act senseless. He has to return this feat of expression, the only expression he has seen since coming here.

She does not notice his presence, continuing her ballad. Wayne starts to sway- how long has it been since he danced? Truly danced? He looks down at his feet, and tests a few steps. As he gains confidence he spins once, stumbles, gains his footing. Oh, what does he do with his arms? Does it matter? He steadies himself with them and spins again, finding pride in the fact that his movement managed to match her rhythm. 

The rancher’s song suddenly grows to a crescendo and he cannot bear to stay reserved any longer. He thrusts himself forward, feeling pure joy whisk around him as he spins himself dizzy. Her words call him, beg him to dance. They ring out with passion, a yearning Wayne resonates with. How has he gone this long without this feeling of reverie? Color swirls in his vision. He refuses to acknowledge how mad he must look, arms flailing and legs kicking into the air. But here, this unrestrained jubilation, he couldn’t possibly care what Gibby or any other moon-loving hylic would think.

Wayne realizes the words have stopped, and mid-spin, his eyes suddenly meet hers. He stumbles, suddenly noticed, unsure what to do. Her eyes are wide, initially scared, but they eventually shift to curiosity, to wonder. Bashfulness overcomes him, and he bows his head slightly (Gibby would never). He feels seen.

Are those tears in her eyes, or are the stars reflecting into them? 

She tilts her head as she continues to stare. Wayne realizes, only now, that she isn’t under the influence of the moon- she retains free will. Somehow, through some miracle, she has kept her mind from being drained all this time. 

How  _ lonely _ must she be? 

To live in a world where no one bears you any mind? Where any attempt at conversation only ends in an uncaring, nonsensical response? How long has her song gone unappreciated, its beauty dissolved into nothing, preserved by no ear?

She tilts her head, as if trying to gauge him. He understands her suspicion- it must have been years since she had seen anyone coherent. Wayne worries for a moment that he might have scared her. He was, technically, an agent of Gibby, as much as he found his position miserable. He scrambles for a way to prove his trustworthiness. 

Wayne clears his throat. Oh dear, he isn’t very good at this. The notes hum in his throat for a moment, before he croaks a fraction of her song out. His voice is scratchy, definitely unused to singing. Is his face red? The notes don’t ring the same way, and he thinks they seem to flutter downward instead of floating, but it’s enough. The rancher leans forward, intently listening to Wayne as he returns her call for companionship. Starlight reflects down her face now.

For now, they forgo introductions. Her voice joins his, their chorus builds, louder and louder, and for that moment their tiny fraction of the world is alive and joyful and so, so wonderful. The notes have just a hint of mourning to them, both of them sing and dance as if the moment is already fleeting. But they overwhelmingly wrap him in a comfort he can find nowhere else. How can one song communicate so much? The vigor of the rhythm, the clarion call for friendship, for something akin to love, the mourning for a world long from this one and only a memory.

Oh life! Oh life!

The song, ever so unfortunately, has to end at one point. The melody fades and he desperately clings to it, trying to memorize it before it can escape his mind. It is something he must treasure, he decides.

Wayne looks back up at her, and laughs a little. Oh, he has to say something cool, right? 

He takes a bow. “That’s our last performance of the night, folks. Closing out for you, Wayne and… and…” He turns back to her, “Wayne and who, exactly?”

She smiles, fondly, for what might be the first time in ages. “Somsnosa,” she states.

“Closing out for you, Wayne and Somsnosa, just two lost souls meeting in the wasteland…”

She laughs. Wait, is she laughing at him?

Before he can scramble to save face Somsnosa looks upward, then jumps to her feet. Wayne looks to where she looks, lining up with a small, red, blinking light on the moon.

The moon. He forgot the moon. 

Somsnosa immediately jumps back, ducking into a window at the top of the farmhouse. Wayne panics for a moment, trying to find cover, before she pops her head back out and gestures for him to follow. In one scared movement he strides up the side of the house, before Somsnosa grabs him and yanks him in.

They shuffle in the dim light for a moment- without any other source of light, Wayne radiates his own, gently filling the room with an orange glow. 

A noise like thunder fills the sky outside. Somsnosa stares upwards for a haunted moment. Both of them are quiet now, simply watching the air distort outside. She sits on the couch, and he joins her on the opposite end. It’s been a while since he’s rested on a couch. The material is rough and scratchy, but he’s never felt more comfortable. They're both still smiling.

Her song still plays in his mind.

And so, they rest. They don’t need to talk- at least, not for now. Wayne feels it might be better that way. His history is a long one, and he carries associations not everyone may like. At this moment, their introductions have been taken care of, and they are two souls whose loneliness has finally been absolved.

He thinks, perhaps, there is starlight on his face too.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little secret.... I based Somsnosa's song of Le Festin from Ratatouille. Yes, she's singing the meme rat song lol. It's a real nice song on it's own though, definitely making it my voice claim for Somsnosa.


End file.
